We are three.

Grammy graciously let me take the call.  There was elation.  And disappointment.  My mother shared the news as Grammy excitedly asked, “So… what are they???”  With a long face, I answered,  “They’re white ones.”  I had desperately wanted “chocolate” babies and no matter how many times it was explained to me that this wouldn’t be possible for our family… I wished for a miracle.  

And as a consolation prize, I was awarded a “chocolate” baby doll.  The consolation prizes would continue for years.  I looked forward to March 13.  Being the odd one out during the twins’ birthday apparently earned me the privilege of presents.  (Boy, did I have them fooled.  I would have been happy with cake…)

Today we may be separated by distance (albeit less distance than other times of our lives), yet we are bound in heart and in spirit.  My greatest wish is for my three little lovelies to embrace the strength, sincerity, and support of sisterhood.

I love you, Sweet Sisters.  
Happy Twentytenth Birthday! 

I first suspected something was up the evening before.  I sampled a bit of cheese that did not seem quite cold enough, but I easily shrugged it off.

Dear hubby had an inkling the next morning, when the milk tasted warm, but in his haste to get to work on time chalked it up to nothing.

It wasn’t until the noon hour when I realized something smelled fishy.  Like literally.  I opened the freezer to prepare lunch and caught a skin-crawling whiff of “something-seriously-died-in-here.”

What the heck?

I cautiously poked a package of ground beef.  Mush.  My homemade turkey stock.  Slosh.  And the deer steaks?  Forget about it.  They were history.

I am embarrassed to say I haven’t cooked much in the last week or so.  In the last seven days we have had no less than 5 parties/banquets to attend or host.  (And two more big events I am hosting/planning in the coming week!  Not sure how this all got on the calendar in such a tight span of time, but its never happening again.)  So yeah.  My life is pretty intense right now.  Who could blame me for not noticing that my faithful fridge had gone kaput?  At least the light bulb was still working.

Don’t get me wrong.  I am not entirely disappointed.  Inconvenienced?  Yes.  Devastated?  Not completely.  You see, we have been waiting for this to happen.  Old Faithful’s days were numbered.  We inherited her from my parents in 2005.  Prior to that, my parents received her circa 1995 from friends who rescued her from yet another previous owner.  (I am confident she is almost as old as I am.) 

When I made the disgustingly delightful discovery, I phoned my sweet hubby at work right away.  (“Houston, we have a problem.”)  Of course, he was involved in a lunch meeting so after I hastily broke the news, he quickly muttered something like “I’ll look into getting it repaired and call you back later.”    

*sigh*   

Not exactly the response I was hoping for.  What he didn’t understand was that my 2-days-ago grocery trip was entirely spoiled and I had three feisty children begging me for lunch.  (And I really, really wanted a new refrigerator.  Like something manufactured in this century.)  

This called for an impromptu trip to Subway and a quest to find something from the grocery store for dinner that wouldn’t require any refrigeration.  My solution?

Soup.
Crackers.
Fruit.

Then the phone rang.  And I heard it.  “Honey, I think maybe it’s time we look into getting a new refrigerator.”  Sweeter words could not have been spoken in that moment.  


So I’m going refrigerator shopping.  Soon.  For the first time ever.  

Suggestions?  I’d love to hear what you like.  (Or don’t like.)

I don’t need a Cadillac and I am definitely on a budget, but after all these years, I’m in the market for something pretty stinkin’ nice.

Pin It

Beyond measure.  Blessed.  The man I call my husband is my greatest treasure.  My best friend.  My confidante.  My life.

I love this man.

And today in celebration of love, I honor him.  My hero.  My knight.  My heart.

Traditionally, my sweetie and I take turns plotting our Valentine’s Day shenanigans.  And there isn’t usually much that is very traditional about it.  Sure, red roses are pretty standard, but I’ve always preferred yellow.  Conversation hearts are a chalky distraction and cheap chocolate will never find room in my heart.

A couple of years ago, it was my turn.  (I have found that finding a great babysitter on Valentine’s Day is pretty darn near impossible so we whisk the kids off to bed a trifle early and plan a quiet evening at home together.)  That particular year, I prepared a cheese tasting for two.  By candlelight.  I like my cheese the same way I like my coffee and my chocolate.  Rich, indulgent, and flavorful.

I carefully cut and prepared several cheeses and arranged them on a silver tray.  I served a sparkling white grape juice, crackers, grapes, and of course… Ghirardelli chocolates.  The cheeses included a hearty Gruyere, an imported Irish white cheddar, and a creamy brie.  I do not exaggerate when I say the cheese that stole the evening was the Limburger.  My hubby and I had never tasted Limburger before.  In fact, the only knowledge I had of the stinky cheese was from the crazy antics I had seen from actors on various tv shows and movies. I was convinced they were exaggerating.

I.  Was.  Wrong.


I have never before tasted a rotting rat carcass, but I am pretty sure it must taste something like Limburger cheese.  My dear husband wouldn’t even allow me to keep it in the refrigerator for fear of it contaminating the neighboring food.  (Of course, it was one of the more costly cheeses, but into the trash it went.)  Up until that evening, I had never met a cheese I couldn’t get along with.  


(After the cheese, the evening took a delightfully bizarre turn which resulted in a Perfect Strangers marathon.  Yeah, remember those guys???  Perhaps it was the Limburger talking…)


Last year, for Lee’s turn, he erred on the side of caution and surprised me with a new coffee machine, a pound of my favorite brew, and a box of good chocolate.  

Divine perfection.

This year’s antics are yet to be seen… but I do believe it’s my turn. 

Happy Valentine’s Day!  I wish you love, happiness, and coffee.

Pin It